The Daughter of Hearth and Colour
by McCountryGirl
Summary: Thirty years after the Battle of Manhatten, a new forbidden child arises. Aracari Romana never knew her parents. She even named herself. During her sixth grade year, she learns that she truly isn't supposed to be alive. Follow her on her hourney as a half-blood, who isn't quite half-god, but something more.


**A/N: New story! I know, I have a whole lot of stories I need to update, but the plot hellhounds wont go away.**

**The Daughter of Hearth and Colour**

Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood. Not many of us do.

Anyway, my name is Arcari Romana. I'm twelve years olds, and until a few months ago, I attended Aberathy School for Troubled and Mischeivious Children.

Am I troubled?

You could say that.

I could start at any point in my life, but things got really bad last winter.

Our class was going in a trip to the art museum to look at some old Greek stuff.

Twenty-seven mental case students on one bus. For three hours. Sounds like torture, right?

Most Aberathy field trips were.

During the drive, the school bully, Arthur McAdam, was pelting me with Lunchable crackers with peanut butter on them. I was ready to kick him in his soft spot and make him sing soprano right there.

Thinking back, I should have.

Anyway, when we got to the museum, Mr. Brunner, our Latin teacher, led us to the display.

A word about Mr. Brunner. He's this middle aged guy with thinning hair and a scruffy beard, who always wears a tweed jacket and smelled like coffee. Mr. Brunner had a wheelchair, for what reason, only he knew.

He started talking about a grave marker, a stele, for a guy our age. I tried as best as I could to pay attention, but Arthur was snickering about the naked girl on the stele.

"Will you shut up?" I screached. It came out louder than I meant it to.

"Miss Romana, will you please explain this picture?" he asked. The picture was a teenage boy, a teenage girl and a goat-man slicing up a different kid.

"That's, uh, Perseus Jackson, Annabeth Chase and Grover Underwood slaying the Titan Lord Kronos in Manhatten during the second Titan War, right?" I stuttered.

"And why did they have to do that?" Mr. Brunner pressed.

"They, um, had to do that because, uh, Kronos rose from Tartarus with the help of, ah, Lucas Castellan, and wanted to destroy Olympus?" I mumbled.

"Oh yeah, like we're going to need to know this. Our job applications are totally going to ask 'Why did three kids defeat the evil Titan Lord?'" Arthur snickered.

"To paraphrase Mr. McAdam's question, how does this apply to your life?" Mr. Brunner asked.

"I don't know, sir." I whispered.

"Well, partial credit, Miss Romana. Perseus, Annabeth and Grover did, in fact, slay the Titan Lord, who had inhavited the body of Lucas Castellan. On a happy note, its time for lunch!" he exlaimed.

The climate outside was sweltering. It had been like that since Christmas. We had grass-burning tempuratures, river-freezing tempuratures and some so cold, we weren't aloud outside. Some of the teachers thought it was Global Warming.

I sat alone near a little fountain that was casting rainbows accross the ground, hoping I wouldn't be pegged with the bunch of creepy, stupid kids from the mental school. Arthur was trying to pick the lock on the souvenier shop and some of the guys were throwing breadcrust at pigeons. I took out my iPod, placing my headphones in my ears, and played 'Mama's Broken Heart', a classic song by Miranda Lambert in 2013. My favourite music came from that era, thirty years ago. The world hadn't changed much in thirty years, except for the lack of war.

I got so deep into the music, that I didn't notice Arthur come over until he poured grape juice on my head. I can't remember what happened next, but I remember hearing the roar of a flame. Next thing I know, Arthur is laying face first on the ground, wearing a slightly burned shirt.

"Arcari pushed me!" he shrieked. Thing is, I don't remember touching him. Mrs. Dodds, our pre-algebra teacher, came over to check on him. From day one, she loved Arthur and figured I was devil spawn or something.

After making sure Little Arthur was alright, checking for burns, promising to buy him a new shirt, etc. etc, she pointed her bony finger and me and said: "Now, honey." in her thick, umplacsble accent.

Mrs. Dodds was this wrinkly lady with stringy hair and bad posture who always wore a leather jacket, even though she looks fifty.

"Come with me, Miss Romana." she lulled. I turned back for a second to look at Arthur, who was sitting next to a wall, crying fake tears. While I was looking, Mrs. Dodds must have gotten to the front entrance, because she was there already. That might be part of my ADHD. My brain falls asleep, and when it wakes up, its like a puzzle piece fell out of the universe. I followed Mrs. Dodds into the museum. I figured she was going to make me buy Arthur a new t-shirt. Boy, was I wrong.

Mrs. Dodds led me back to the Greek section of the museum. She glanced at the statue of the Lord of the Dead, like she was searching for his approval.

"You've been giving us trouble, honey." she croned. I went with the safe answer.

"Yes, ma'am."

"You didn't think you could hide, now could you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." I stammered. Mrs. Dodds' fingers then lengthened into long talons, her leather jacket melting into wings and her eyes glowed like barbeque coals.

"Where issss it?" she hissed. She took flight, and headed straight for me. Just them, Mr. Brunner came in and threw me a mechanical pencil. Except, when it touched my hand, it was a three foot long sword, studded with rivets of black metal, with a leather-wrapped grip. I took the sword and did what came naturally: I swung it. With a lucky shot, I hit her neck, and she let out a hiss. She exploded into inky black dust. I turned to Mr. Brunner for an explanation, but he was gone. I walked back outside to find him.

"I hope Mrs. Kerr kicked your butt!" Arthur snickered.

"Who?" I asked.

"Our teacher, duh." he stated. I blinked. Mrs. Dodds was our teacher. I walked over to Mr. Brunner.

"Ah, Miss Romana, that would be my pencil. Next yime, please bring your own writing utencil." he greeted. I blinked. I forgot I was holding it. I handed it back to him.

"Mr. Brunner, where's Mrs. Dodds?" I asked.

"Who?"

"The other chaperone."

"Arcari, there is not, nor ever has been, a Mrs. Dodds at Aberathy. Are yoy sure you're alright?" I looked at Mr. Brunner like he had two heads. Mrs. Dodds was real! I just saw her this morning! He saw her too!

**A/N: Whaddya think? Do you like it? PM me if you think you know who Arcari's parent is! By the way, this is set thirty years after TLO, and HoO never happened, just so you know. **


End file.
